Are First Grade Kids Killers

The tragedy of a first grader killing his classmate should not cloud our vision of the greater picture which is always getting better.

MURDER IN THE FIRST GRADE was Newsweek's cover story. Time magazine gave us an equally frightening blurb on its front page: WHEN KIDS KILL KIDS.

A 6-year-old boy shot his first grade classmate to death in an elementary school near Flint, Michigan. And the world has reacted, strongly: schools are no longer safe; children are no longer innocents; society is breeding monsters; the future of civilization is imperiled by the violence of even its youngest members.

The outrage, the shock and the pain are, of course, all perfectly proper. Everything that's been written is true. But as anyone familiar with the deeper nuances of the Hebrew language -- in which the word for truth is emet -- will tell you, the fact that it's true doesn't mean that it's emet.

And, therein, lies a second if smaller tragedy that happened in these last few weeks -- the inability of contemporary pundits to put the horrible deed of an immature child into perspective.

Emet, the Sages teach, is the perfect word to express the idea of truth. Actually spelled A-M-T and vocalized as emet, this word meaning truth is formed by three letters that represent the first, middle and last letter of the Hebrew alphabet. To warrant a description of emet something must be totally true -- from beginning to end as well as everything in between.

A partial truth is not truth merely modified by an adjective.

A partial truth is not truth merely modified by an adjective. Its very incompleteness alters its definition and turns it into falsehood.

Is a 6-year-old killer irrefutable confirmation that we have ALL lost our way, that mankind has become deprived of its moral moorings?

Perhaps it's instructive to reflect on the perceptive insight of Professor Julian L. Simon, distinguished Senior Fellow of the Cato Institute, in his classic and comprehensive analysis of our times, "The State of Humanity." He writes:

Almost every absolute change, and the absolute component of almost every economic and social change or trend points in a positive direction, as long as we view the matter over a reasonably long period of time.

Professor Simon acknowledges that most people fail to perceive the truth of this statement. Anecdotally, he recounts the reaction of his mother, born in 1900 and witness to a dazzling wealth of advancements in her lifetime, who disagreed with his claim that living conditions had markedly improved:

When I asked mother why she thought things had only gotten worse, she replied: "The headlines in the newspapers are all bad."

Headlines by their very nature reflect one aspect of reality. They emphasize the unusual. They trumpet news of the peculiar and the unexpected.

A story about the birth of quintuplets shouldn't send all expectant couples scurrying to buy 5 cribs. What is newsworthy is almost by definition not normal.

Did you know that Adam and Eve had another son aside from Cain and Abel?

Cain, the killer, will always get more publicity. So will Abel, his hapless victim.

Poor Seth. Almost no one remembers his name. And that's probably because he never got into any trouble. Cain, the killer, will always get more publicity. So will Abel, hapless victim of the first act of murder. Yet the true story of mankind is the tale of the masses of human beings who maintain their divine dignity and prove by their "normal" behavior that they are in fact created in the image of God.

No one should fail to note with profound horror the events that occurred in Flint, Michigan. They demand our tears and our grief, as well as a call to introspection for all the sins of our culture which may have served as contributing causes.

What we must not, however, allow this incident to do is to cloud our vision of the greater picture which far more fully portrays the emet of our days:

Children aren't killers. A Talmudic teaching that we recite every day as part of our daily prayers reminds us of this in no uncertain terms: "The soul which you have implanted in me is pure." We begin life in innocence, unstained by sin. To call a child a "bad seed," unredeemable and incorrigible, runs counter to a basic tenet of Jewish tradition.

The decline of morality is not a foregone conclusion nor is the breakdown of society an inevitable and inescapable reality. The Messianic vision, which has sustained us throughout the centuries, posits an ascending curve which allows for optimism and hope.

A culture should not be judged by its deviant behavior, but by its response to that behavior. The child who didn't really understand what he did doesn't define us. Our sense of compassion, our shared pain for the victim as well as her family -- these are a far better barometer of our society.

There's one more reason why I don't see in this incident proof that our children have turned into monsters and that the whole world has gone to hell. It's simple, really. If we say that kids kill kids, that they are bad, that they can do the unspeakable, then they will do the unspeakable. It can become, God forbid, a self-fulfilling prophecy.

As Jews, we know, in the words of the Bible, that "children are a heritage of the Lord." If we view them as anything less, we condemn them to our mistrust and almost ensure their waywardness. If we view them instead for what they are, bearers of unlimited potential with a natural striving for the good and the holy, then nothing will be beyond their reach -- and ours.

Related Articles:

About the Author

Rabbi Benjamin Blech, a frequent contributor to Aish, is a Professor of Talmud at Yeshiva University and an internationally recognized educator, religious leader, and lecturer. Author of 14 highly acclaimed books with combined sales of over a half million copies, his newest, The World From A Spiritual Perspective, is a collection of over 100 of his best Aish articles. See his website at www.benjaminblech.com.

Visitor Comments: 2

(2)
myesha,
May 25, 2010 10:31 PM

this is really good

i am suprised that a little boy killed one of his classmates

(1)
Anonymous,
March 29, 2000 12:00 AM

great article

reminded me of a debate i participated in with a minor political celebrity who wanted to pass legislation banning certain things he saw as harmfull (rap lyrics, "adult" photos, etc.) . i asked why limit the freedoms of the healthy because of the actions of the sick.
the rabbi is right. if all we see the bad, we cannot see the beauty that is G-d's gift to us

Submit Your Comment:

Name:*

Display my name?

YesNo

Email:*

Your email address is kept private. Our editor needs it in case we have a question about your comment.

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...